[ Iorveth only opens his eye once between falling unconscious and being properly roused by the sound of Dolores dropping her food (what a waste!!!)－ Astarion's absence had been unsettling, but he'd made the executive decision not to hand-wring over a grown-ass elf's decision to go do something on his own. Gods forbid Astarion want to have fun on his own every once in a while.
Now, finding the pleasant weight of a familiar body near his, Iorveth is content with the outcome of the night despite the heavy scent of blood in the air and the fuzzy discoloration on Astarion's face that's slowly starting to come into focus. The best case scenario, all things considered.
Sleepily: ] Don't cause a scene. [ To the poor gnome, who has every right to be incredibly alarmed by the sight of two strange, bloody and battered elves: ] My cat brought back a mouse, is all this is.
[ In spirit, not literally. Iorveth would not actually have appreciated Iorveth bringing Henrik's literal head back for his approval. He feels groggy, but significantly better than he did the night prior; amazing, what a long rest can do.
Sitting up, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, uprooting Max who, after a plaintive whine, scurries onto the floor and sniffs at the scrambled eggs scattered on the floorboard.
"Gods, am I keeping murderers in my home?!" Dolores hiss-yells. From directly above them, the old man's voice bellows: "SWEET PEA? DID YOU TRIP OVER THE CATS AGAIN?" ]
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Now, finding the pleasant weight of a familiar body near his, Iorveth is content with the outcome of the night despite the heavy scent of blood in the air and the fuzzy discoloration on Astarion's face that's slowly starting to come into focus. The best case scenario, all things considered.
Sleepily: ] Don't cause a scene. [ To the poor gnome, who has every right to be incredibly alarmed by the sight of two strange, bloody and battered elves: ] My cat brought back a mouse, is all this is.
[ In spirit, not literally. Iorveth would not actually have appreciated Iorveth bringing Henrik's literal head back for his approval. He feels groggy, but significantly better than he did the night prior; amazing, what a long rest can do.
Sitting up, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, uprooting Max who, after a plaintive whine, scurries onto the floor and sniffs at the scrambled eggs scattered on the floorboard.
"Gods, am I keeping murderers in my home?!" Dolores hiss-yells. From directly above them, the old man's voice bellows: "SWEET PEA? DID YOU TRIP OVER THE CATS AGAIN?" ]